


Doesn’t Remind Me

by BlusterTheBenevolent



Series: To Old Friends And New [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Fantasizing, Hate Sex, Kinda Sadstuck, M/M, Masturbation, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 10:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14055471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlusterTheBenevolent/pseuds/BlusterTheBenevolent
Summary: Gabe felt like shit thinking about their failed friendship. But despite the sick feeling in his gut, he couldn’t help that he was still incredibly attracted to Morrison...





	Doesn’t Remind Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is baby's first Overwatch fic so please be gentle... 
> 
> Takes place in the pre-canon Overwatch universe as described in [So Long and Goodnight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333306/chapters/16658002) by [kriegersan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriegersan/pseuds/kriegersan). I'm attempting to write my own shitty fan-sequel to that fic (so, basically, a fic of a fic), set in the Blackwatch era, and this is a short scene that might end up in it.

It’s the end of the evening. Gabe stands at the mirror, thinking to himself, breathing into the silence. You don’t get a lot of silence at a military base, not much time alone with your thoughts. A blessing and a curse, he supposes. He strips down to his boxers and t-shirt, examining his own form in the mirror. He looks older than he remembered. The past few years have taken their toll, he guesses. 

He lays down in bed to sleep. He thinks sometimes these few moments before sleep, alone in his bunk, are the only moments when he’s really free. Free from judgement, from expectation. From listening to the shitheads who decide his future for him. He thinks of Jack, who seems so comfortable and natural as a leader, in the spotlight. No wonder they decided to hide Gabe away on the black ops team… not that he really minds. He honestly prefers that kind of work. He always knew the world was a sleazy place, and it’s better to be among people who acknowledge and admit that. A refreshing change from spending time with his old Overwatch crowd, who were always pretending to be heroes, saving the fuckin world, they bragged. In reality, they play dirtier than anybody. At least his team is honest with themselves about what they do. They kill. They find out information. They get shit done. Then the golden boys upstairs take credit for it,the media applauds, and no one’s the wiser.

Gabe thinks about his newest recruit, a young sharpshooter named Jesse McCree. Good lookin’ kid, but skinny as hell. And the worst fuckin’ attitude. When they arrested him, Gabe told him he could join Blackwatch, or spend life rotting in a state prison. Kid wasn’t stupid, he knew his choice was already made for him. Gabe felt a little guilty seeing how young the damn kid was… couldn’t have been more than seventeen. It ain’t a kid’s fault when he grows up raised by gangbangers, if he turns into one. Gabe wished he could’ve given this kid a real choice… but his shooting skills were top notch, he’d make a good addition to their team. Soon as they broke him in a little, anyway, got him to stop cussing and spitting at anything that moved.

Gabe lays in bed, rubbing his hand over his face. He thinks about Jack, as he does nearly every night. Hard to forget about him, when he sees him every day, he sleeps just a few rooms away. He thinks about how in the old days, he might have snuck down the hall and crept into Jack’s bed, laid down and curled up behind him, crept his hand into his boxer shorts. More than a few times he’d woken Jack up like that. Never had any complaints, either.

But those days were over. Jack seemed to have lost interest, or for whatever reason, he started avoiding Gabe whenever he tried to catch a moment alone with him. Gabe stopped trying, too, after a while. He wasn’t sure what had happened, except that Jack was different now. More confident, cold and distant. Gabe got a sick feeling in his stomach when he thought about Jack’s permanent expression these days, stony and emotionless. When he smiled, it seemed like a shadow passing over his face, not reaching his eyes. Compared to the Jack he used to know, whose grin could light up a room like an Indiana sunrise, who cried himself sick over Preston’s death… Gabe didn’t know how to deal with this Jack. And he didn’t know that he wanted to, either.

Gabe felt like shit thinking about their failed friendship, how they’d avoid eye contact now, only speaking to each other about mission related bullshit. Still, despite the sick feeling in his gut, Gabe couldn’t help that he was still incredibly attracted to Morrison. Especially when he saw him in the showers after a day of training, remembering vividly what he used to do to that body…

Gabe felt his dick hardening at the memory from just a few hours ago, when he’d caught a glimpse of Jack’s ass in the shower, as his back was turned, water running down his body. This was kinda fucked up… they weren’t even friends anymore… fucking Morrison and his holier-than-thou attitude. Always taking the moral high ground, but ignoring the fact that he benefited directly from those whose actions he condemned. Gabe wanted to remind Morrison that he wasn’t the clean cut, golden boy he made himself out to be. He wanted to see him on his knees, taking Gabe’s cock into his mouth, gagging on it, begging to be fucked senseless. He wanted to remind him how fucked up he really was, how fucked they both were. 

Gabe shucked his boxers off, palming his dick, a bead of precum beginning to form at the tip. He spat into his hand, not bothering with lube. He wanted this to be quick and rough. Wanting to fuck himself the way he wanted to fuck Jack. He rolled over on his hands and knees, curling around himself and fucking into his hand, not wasting any time. He groaned, muffling his face in the pillow, pissed off at Jack, fuckin pissed at himself. He wanted to shout, cry, smash something. 

Instead he pictured Jack below him, taking him balls deep, eyes wide and blonde hair spread out on his pillow. Jack, panting and sobbing with the pleasure-pain of Gabe’s dick spreading him apart. Jack shaking beneath him as he fucked him hard, too rough, enough to make him hurt. Gabe groaned, pleasure pooling quickly in his gut. He pumped hard into his fist, grasping his dick hard enough that the pain almost outweighed the pleasure. He grunted as he came, fucking hard into his hand, shuddering, then slumping over onto his side. 

Already the post-orgasm haze was wearing off, and Gabe felt sick and exhausted. Was this his life now? Crawling into an empty bed at night, jerking off to fantasies of hate-fucking his Strike Commander? He remembered, suddenly and painfully, Jack lying next to him in bed, letting Gabe hold him and kiss his way up his shoulder and neck. Jack turning to him, looking him in the eyes, gentle and earnest and trusting as hell. Gabe had felt so wanted, cared for... Fuck. He couldn’t think about this shit anymore. No point, he tells himself. Morrison wanted out, and Gabe wasn't about to chase after him. There was no sense in pissing and moaning and feeling bad for himself. At the end of the day it wouldn’t change a thing.


End file.
